Remembering
by Garret Marsh
Summary: A hero is all he knows how to be. There are no rewards for being the hero; no fortune, no recognition, no love. But that is all he knows, and still he moves on. Whether running away or running forward, he moves on, never remembered.


It was after midnight when the stranger walked in, his thick brown cloak soaked from the ongoing downpour outside. Inside the cozy lobby of the inn, the only other soul around was that of the inn-keeper and owner seated behind the counter. Eyeing him less with suspicion and more with curiosity, the inn-keeper could tell from the bulges in the back of the man's cloak that he had brought a significant amount of gear in with him.

"Sorry, no room tonight," he told the stranger, despite him still approaching the counter.

The inn-keeper was not typically one to turn down the business of outsiders, of which this man clearly was. Unlike others, he was normally very open to just about anyone staying in his inn, but less for tolerance and more for indifference. After all, what did it matter where someone was from or what they believed if they were lining _his_ pockets either way? But something about this stranger unsettled him. He had a presence about him that told the keeper that this was a man used to trouble following him everywhere; trouble that the owner did not want his establishment involved in.

When he reached the counter, the man reached just inside his cloak to a small pouched tied to his belt and brought his hand down in front of the owner, giving off a sharp _clack_ sound. After his hand rose, what lay before the inn-keeper was a small purple stone. A rupee; currency in many countries. Typically, rupees were not considered of much value this far north of the larger kingdom ruled countries, but one of this mineral was of high value anywhere. Still...

"I already told you, there's-" another clack cut him off as another 3 more purple rupees appeared in front of him.

With his greed finally getting the better of him, the inn-keeper sighed, grabbed the valuables, and turned to grab the keys to an available room. After they keys were handed over, the wanderer turned and walked towards one of the chairs sitting in front of the inn's fireplace. Still standing, he reached under and around to his back and seemingly unbuckled something before dropping the weight of his back onto the chair. Curiosity getting to him again, the inn-keeper leaned over to see a medium sized traveling pack and a bow and quiver sitting in the chair. The man's still slightly misshapen back told the owner that another weapon was still concealed, most likely a sword or spear. The keeper knew from experience that no one carried a weapon that they didn't know how to properly use, which meant clearly this was a man not to be approached without caution.

"What kingdom is this?" the stranger asked.

The owner was slightly startled as he had been staring so intently at the weapons that it took him a moment to remember that these were the man's first words since he'd walked in. A rough yet still youthful sounding voice with a slightly southern accent.

"Must've traveled a long time to not even know where you are," he replied.

Getting no response, he figured he'd answer.

"You're in Cobble."

Still hooded, the man turned his attention back to the fire. He remained standing while his gear sat comfortably in the chair next to him.

"Got a name?" the owner tried, hoping for some kind of a clue to this walking mystery in his inn.

Without luck, he moved on.

"Fine then. Since you've clearly come a long ways, how about where you're from?"

Silently, one hand slowly pulled down his hood as he turned back, revealing a young man who wouldn't have passed for more than twenty if he tried, but who's worn face and dead blue eyes had the look of someone who'd lived countless lifetimes of nothing but pain. Actually, it was just one eye, as his right eye was covered in a brown leather eye patch. Dirty blonde hair and pointed ears with red piercings in them were dead giveaways that this man was very, very far from home.

His response finally came in a single word: "Hyrule."

* * *

**NOTES: **Well, here it is, the first chapter to my first story. Anyone who knows me knows it's no shock that it was Zelda based. Seriously though, at this point any review or criticism is more than welcomed. To anyone who reads, thank you and I hope you let me know what you think.


End file.
